Graças à Lara André, que além de salvar blogs indefesos contra terríveis malwares ainda dá ótimas dicas de livros e posta lindas fotos de bichos, baixei esse livro aqui no Kindle. É simplesmente a coisa mais interessante que já li nos últimos tempos.

Fiz um curso de roteiro cinematográfico com a Newlands há muitas eras glaciais atrás, e destrinchamos O Silêncio dos Inocentes cena por cena, fala por fala, close por close. Nunca mais consegui ver um filme sem fazer esse tipo de análise. Não, não tira a graça da coisa, muito pelo contrário: hoje sou capaz de apreciar de verdade um roteiro bem escrito, de entender como um bom diretor faz diferença, de identificar de maneira mais ou menos certeira de quem é a culpa quando o filme é uma merda.

Um dos meus livros preferidos é Orality and Literacy, que explica, entre muitas outras coisas, como é impossível voltar a pensar como analfabeto depois que você aprende a ler e escrever (falo de ler e escrever direito, não de gente que não entende o que lê e que só sabe escrever o suficiente pra garranchar “pagar ceguro do carro hoge” no calendário). Saber ler e escrever direito muda o seu modo de pensar, e você nunca mais vai conseguir voltar atrás. Não dá pra desaprender a pensar dessa nova maneira; não é possível voltar atrás.

Esse livro também é assim, do tipo que muda paradigmas. Você começa a ver com outros olhos a sua relação com os outros, com a mídia, com as suas próprias emoções. E nunca vai conseguir voltar a ser aquele pobre inocente (leia-se otário) de antes, porque quando o seu cérebro sabe que está sendo enganado, o engano acaba. Não sei se estou conseguindo me explicar direito, mas leiam porque é MUITO interessante. Ainda nem terminei, mas estou achando tão sensacional que resolvi compartilhar aqui em vez de escrever o post que está na minha cabeça há meses (vou ver se escrevo essa semana ainda).

Um trecho, que nem é o mais interessante do que li até agora mas acho que exemplifica bem a nossa idiotice nativa:

“In 1970, psychologists Bibb Latane and John Darley created an experiment in which they would drop pencils or coins. Sometimes they would be in a group, sometimes with one other person. They did this six thousand times. The results? They got help 20 percent of the time in a group, 40 percent of the time with one other person. They decided to up the stakes, and in their next experiment they had someone fill out a questionnaire. After a few minutes, smoke would start to fill the room, billowing in from a wall vent. They ran two versions of the experiment. In one, the person was alone; in the other, two other people were also filling out the questionnaire. When alone, people took about five seconds to get up and freak out. Within groups people took an average of 20 seconds to notice. When alone, the subject would go inspect the smoke and then leave the room to tell the experimenter he or she thought something was wrong. When in a group, people just sat there looking at one another until the smoke was so thick they couldn’t see the questionnaire. Only three people in eight runs of the group experiment left the room, and they took an average of six minutes to get up.

The findings suggest the fear of embarrassment plays into group dynamics. You see the smoke, but you don’t want to look like a fool, so you glance over at the other person to see what they are doing. The other person is thinking the same thing. Neither of you react, so neither of you becomes alarmed. The third person sees two people acting like everything is OK, so that third person is even less likely to freak out. Everyone is influencing every other person’s perception of reality thanks to another behavior called the illusion of transparency. You tend to think other people can tell what you are thinking and feeling just by looking at you. You think the other people can tell you are really worried about the smoke, but they can’t. They think the same thing. No one freaks out. This leads to pluralistic ignorance – a situation where everyone is thinking the same thing but believes he or she is the only person who thinks ti. After the smoke-filled room experiment, all the participants reported they were freaking out on the inside, but since no one else seemed alarmed, they assumed it must just be their own anxiety.

The researches decided to up the ante once more. This time, they had people fill out a questionnaire while the experimenter, a woman, shouted in the other room about how she had injured her leg. When alone, 70 percent of people left the room to check on her. When in a group, 40 percent checked. If you were to walk along a bridge and see someone in the water screaming for help, you would feel a much greater urge to leap in and pull them to safety than you would if you were part of a crowd. When it’s just you, all the responsibility to help is yours. The bystander effect gets stronger when you think the person who needs help is being harmed by someone that person knows. Lance Shotland and Margaret Straw showed in a 1978 experiment when people saw two actors, a man and a woman, pretending to physically fight, they often wouldn’t intervene if the woman shouted, “I don’t know why I ever married you!” People helped 65 of the time if she instead shouted, “I don’t know you!” Many other studies have shown it takes only one person to help for others to join in. Whether it is to donate blood, assist someone in changing a tire, drop money into a performer’s coffers, or stop a fight – people rush to help once they see another person leading by example.

One final, awesome example is the Good Samaritan experiment. Darley and Batson in 1973 got a group of Princeton Theological Seminary students together and told them to prepare a speech on the parable of the Good Samaritan from the Bible. The point of the parable is to stop and help people in need. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells his disciples about a traveler who is beaten and robbed then left to die along a road. A priest and another man walk past him, but a Samaritan stops to help even though the man is Jewish and Samaritans weren’t in the habit of helping out Jews. After filling out some questionnaires, with the story fresh in their minds, some groups were told they were late to give the speech in a nearby building. In other groups the subjects were told they had plenty of time. Along their path to the other building an actor was slumped over and groaning, pretending to be sick and in need of help. Of the seminary students who had plenty of time, about 60 percent stopped and helped. The ones in a rush? Ten percent helped, and some even stepped over the actor on their way.

So the takeaway here is to remember you are not so smart when it comes to helping people. In a crowded room, or a public street, you can expect people to freeze up and look around at one another.

Knowing that, you should always be the first person to break away from the pack and offer help – or attempt escape – because you can be certain no one else will.”